If by fortune should my shade be revealed
make not unkind sport of this heart worn fool,
this wraith who waits by shadow concealed
for merest glimpse of his bright passing Jewel.
From what now impotent crown did she fall
to grace the land with such a treasure rare
that the boldest men fear her name to call
should they be rendered frail by beauty’s stare.
All the precious things that I hold so dear
are but trinkets and falsehood of no worth
when by fate’s kind mercy her voice I hear
and see her shining bright upon the earth.
Guilty of some foul deed or broken rule
must I so live with such a penance cruel.